


Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole

by DoomedTemperament



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Indie Music, Love Confessions, M/M, Road Trips, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 15:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomedTemperament/pseuds/DoomedTemperament
Summary: Hajime had, in the time he hadn’t been driving, eating, sleeping, or goofing off with his companions, been working on a set of lyrics to accompany a song he had started working on weeks ago. While it was nothing overtly conspicuous, he knew for a fact that the others had seen him trying to write several times, which left him occasionally wanting to tear his hair out. Fortunately, none of them decided to question him about it, which allowed him to save some face.After all, how does one even go about writing a love song for their bandmate without looking like an idiot?(The AU where Hajime, Nagito, Kazuichi, Ibuki, and Chiaki are all indie band members on their way to a music festival.)





	Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole

**Author's Note:**

> *glances at word count*
> 
> Holy shit. This is the longest oneshot I've ever written. I don't even know what to say about this other than I just had the idea one day and had to get it out of my head, and somehow I ended up with this. I tried to keep their characters consistent, but it's kinda hard to do so when there's no death and despair going on around them.
> 
> Without getting too wordy, I really hope y'all enjoy this fic.

**6 days until the performance**

 

If you’d asked Hajime about his favorite way to spend a late night, playing strip poker in a not-so-fancy RV interior wasn’t high on the list.

It wasn’t like he was going to complain, though.

That night was the first of several that Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole would be on the road as they traveled from one end of the country to the other. It was a bit of an inconvenience, considering none of the band members were rich (well… one of them was an exception, but that was a touchy subject) and the price of travel would be somewhat costly, especially given the time it would take to actually get to their destination. But knowing that it would be incredibly worth the trip, and that the ride probably wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he thought it would be, he firmly decided he wouldn’t let himself be an idiot and take issue with it.

Their destination: Jabberwock Indie Music Festival.

Sponsored by the highly well-known record label Hope’s Peak, it was a hugely popular five-day festival that was rumored to be the ultimate starting point for any small band hoping to make it big. Legend had it that numerous talent scouts would scope out the performances, and almost every band that played would be guaranteed to find themselves on the top ten charts.

And Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole had gotten an invitation to play at the venue.

At first, Hajime thought he was dreaming. But when he, along with Chiaki, Nagito, Kazuichi, and Ibuki, had confirmed that they’d all received emails from the official account of the website (leading to an arm-pinching that he’d felt for hours afterward, among other injuries), he realized it was true. But that was a story for another time.

At the moment, Hajime was sitting on one of the entirely-too-small couches at an entirely-too-small table in the RV, stripped down to his pants as he held his playing cards. Chiaki was currently sock-less and shoe-less, Kazuichi was shivering in his boxers and beanie, Ibuki was skirting the rules by taking out her numerous piercings, and unsurprisingly, Nagito had every last piece of clothing on him.

“Two pair,” Hajime said, presenting his cards to Kazuichi, “Two fours and two sixes.”

Kazuichi only grinned at him, looking surprisingly confident for someone who was almost naked.

“Straight.”

Hajime frowned as Kazuichi laid down his hand, the line of numbers glaring back at him. With a loud sigh, he reluctantly began to unbutton his pants, earning a faux whistle from Kazuichi, a giggle from Chiaki, a snicker from Nagito, and a loud “Woo, take it off!” from Ibuki

“You’re all terrible,” Hajime said, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice as he slid them down his legs. “Remind me why I’m in a band with you guys again?”

“Because we’re the most talented people you know,” Chiaki said, resting her chin on her hand, “And you love us.”

“Because nobody knows how to pound the drums like I do,” Kazuichi said with a grin as he pointed to himself.

“Because nobody can finger a guitar like Ibuki!” Ibuki said happily.

“Because nobody can finger a bass like me,” Nagito said.

“Because nobody can finger a keyboard like me,” Chiaki said with a smile.

“Can we please stop talking about fingering?” Hajime said, feeling both exasperated and fond.

“Because nobody can finger himself like Hajime,” Kazuichi mock-coughed, earning several chuckles from everybody but Hajime, whose face burned red as a tomato.

“Sh-shut up!” Hajime squeaked indignantly. “I play the guitar in addition to vocals, in case you forgot.”

Ibuki looked slightly miffed. “Yeah, but you play the acoustic guitar. I’m the best at electric guitar.”

Hajime nodded. “Yeah, you are. You’re also the best at cheating,” he added, gesturing to the six piercings on the table.

“You’re just annoyed because everyone’s wearing more clothes than you are,” Kazuichi pointed out with a shit-eating grin.

“You’re going to have to take that beanie off at some point,” Hajime reminded him.

“Man, I’d rather be buck-naked with it on than dressed with it off,” Kazuichi scoffed.

“If you lose one more hand, you just might be,” Nagito said cheerfully, earning a put-down groan in response.

“Hey,” Chiaki said suddenly, glancing at the clock on the wall of the RV, “It’s getting late, and I have to drive tomorrow. We should get to bed.”

Hajime let out an internal sigh of relief, grateful that Chiaki had saved him from possibly having to lose his underwear as well. As much as he liked his bandmates, he wasn’t too terribly keen on them seeing him in his birthday suit. The relief didn’t last long, though, as Hajime checked the clock as well, and grimaced- 11:15, far later than he had anticipated staying up.

“Alright, let’s get ourselves re-dressed and then crash,” Kazuichi suggested as he began to put his clothes back on.

The others all hummed in agreement, feeling the fatigue of travel begin to set in after the excitement of the game had ended. After everyone was once again covered, they all traveled to the back of the RV, and looked at the bunk beds.

“Uh, guys?” Ibuki started with a frown, “There are only four beds.”

Sure enough, as Hajime examined the bunks, there were only two on each side.

“They’re awfully small, so someone might have to take the couch,” Chiaki said, leading to an impromptu game of nose-goes. Naturally, Hajime and Nagito tied for last.

“Ahaha… I can take the couch, then,” Nagito said with a small laugh.

Hajime glanced at the couch, then to one of the bunk beds, then to the couch again. Chiaki took pity on him.

“Nagito, you and Hajime are about the same size, right? I think you’d both be able to fit on the same bed.”

Both Hajime and Nagito began to blush, neither making eye contact. After a few seconds, Ibuki and Kazuichi seemed to pick up on the atmosphere, and made semi-enthusiastic noises in understanding.

“The couch is way too small and uncomfortable for anyone to sleep on,” Ibuki said.

“Yeah, and I doubt you’d want to share a bed with any of the girls,” Kazuichi added. “Besides, uh… I turn in bed a lot. So you don’t want to share with me.”

Hajime bit his lower lip, pensive. _It’s not like I don’t know exactly what they’re doing, he thought to himself, But they’re just trying to help me sort out my stupid feelings. I shouldn’t be taking so long just to..._

Suddenly, Nagito spoke, cutting through Hajime’s uncomfortable musings.

“I suppose if there’s no other choice.”

Hajime bewilderedly stared at Nagito, who was putting on his default cheerful smile that almost always masked whatever his real emotions were. It was concerning, how Hajime was able to tell the difference between his fake smile and his genuine smile, and yet not know anything about what he was hiding inside.

“Sounds like a plan then,” Hajime said after an extended pause.

An agreement was made shortly after- Chiaki and Ibuki would take the top bunks, and Kazuichi, Hajime, and Nagito would take the bottom bunks. Each band member took turns to clean themselves up for the night and get ready for bed, and soon enough, the lights were switched off, and everyone crawled into their respective beds. Hajime held his breath as he pressed himself against the wall, making room for Nagito. Several seconds passed, until a hesitant body slid alongside him.

“I’m sorry that you have to be stuck with me for the night,” Nagito said lowly, almost whispering against Hajime’s neck. “I know it’s an unlucky arrangement-”

“Just go to sleep, Nagito,” Hajime said quietly.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed after that, not bothering to count the seconds and minutes as he waited for Nagito’s breathing to even out. Even after it did, he found himself staring at the darkness of the wall, trying to calm himself down until exhaustion finally took over his body, and he fell into a deep slumber.

And when he woke up with Nagito’s arms loosely wrapped around his waist, practically spooning him, he decided not to say anything about it.

* * *

**A not-very-long while ago…**

 

“And that’s when the world fell apart!”

As the last notes of Ibuki’s guitar faded, Hajime took the chance to regain his breath. There was definitely something exhilarating about performing together with another set of musicians instead of sitting at home alone with his guitar and his half-empty notebook full of aimless song lyrics. He had sung his heart out for the first time in a long while in his first unofficial performance with his friends, and the rush of adrenaline at the way the harmonies formed perfectly, the excitement as the song he’d toiled over for months finally came together, the sheer joy of being able to be passionate about his music, all crashed through him, and he felt great.

“Woohoo! That was incredible!” Ibuki loudly cheered in the vast space of Kazuichi’s dad’s garage, “Hajime, you’ve got some serious pipes! Ibuki feels invigorated!”

“I think that was a good first run,” Chiaki agreed, distractedly abandoning her keyboard for some mobile game she had downloaded the previous week.

“That was intense,” Kazuichi said breathlessly as he grinned and set down his drumsticks, “But it was so worth it. I can’t believe we sounded so great!”

“There’s always room for improvement,” Nagito said, causing everyone to look at him with blank expressions. He quickly raised his hands in defense. “But still, for a group of novices, we’ve got a lot of potential!”

“Potential, huh,” Kazuichi mused, “It’s fun working with you guys and all, but it’s probably only going to be a hobby for me. My dad still wants me to work at the shop, and I don’t know how I’d break it to him that I’d want to be a musician.”

Hajime frowned.

“You know, if he let you sign up for those drum lessons all those years ago, and he’s letting us practice in his garage, don’t you think he might be more supportive than you realize?”

Kazuichi looked at Hajime like he’d just suggested that Kazuichi should cover himself in grease and try to slide down the sidewalk.

“Just a thought,” Hajime was quick to placate, and Kazuichi smiled again.

“But damn, if we got better equipment and had more time to practice, we could really make something great.”

“I’d be willing to spend more time with everyone to work on refinement,” Chiaki said after a short pause. “And maybe I could help Hajime write some more songs.”

“That’d be rad,” Ibuki agreed. “I can help too! I have perfect pitch!”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to playing more frequently,” Nagito agreed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “It could be a great learning experience, if nothing else.”

Hajime glanced at Kazuichi, and gave him a pointed look, as if to say, _This is your chance._ He watched as a flurry of expressions flew across Kazuichi’s face, until finally, he saw acceptance.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll see if I can ask my old man about getting time off work.”

Everyone grinned, and Hajime was almost tempted to pump his fist in the air, if he didn’t think he’d get looks for being lame.

After everyone had packed up their instruments and said their goodbyes, Hajime set out to walk away. He only made it a few feet before he felt a hand on his shoulder, which startled him. He turned around, relieved to see it was only Nagito.

“You did something great today, Hajime,” Nagito said warmly.

“It was really nothing. I just wanted my friend to be happy,” Hajime said, somewhat surprised at the spontaneous compliment.

“You gave Kazuichi hope. That’s something incredibly admirable,” Nagito said, and Hajime had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

_What’s with this guy and hope?_ He thought, not for the first time, but refrained from saying anything about it.

Instead, he opted for, “Thanks. But if everyone else wasn’t on board too, we’d have never made it happen. You’re a part of the help too.” A quick smile, and then, “And what kind of band doesn’t have a bassist?”

Nagito looked at Hajime with wide eyes, and somewhere in the back of Hajime’s mind, he had the stray thought that it looked sort of cute. Nagito smiled brightly then, and removed his hand from Hajime’s shoulder.

“You really are too kind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hajime asked, but Nagito had already begun to walk away.

_Nagito… is pretty weird._

* * *

**5 days until the performance**

 

Hajime groaned in frustration, nearly throwing his notebook across the small room.

At the moment, he was the only one in the RV. He looked out the side window, both annoyed and grateful to see that it was nearing sunset, and none of the others were back from their expedition yet

Ibuki, Chiaki, Kazuichi, and Nagito had all left the RV about a half hour ago to search through the small town they were currently parked in for something good to eat. As they had initially entered the town, the small conflict of what they should eat arose. Ibuki was in the mood for barbecue, Chiaki was in the mood for sushi, Kazuichi was in the mood for a burger and fries, and both Nagito and Hajime were indecisive. Since none of them could agree on what to get, Hajime suggested that they all go out to get their own food, and that he would stay in the RV and wait for them to get back. Chiaki had looked at him with concern, but Hajime had assured her that he’d be fine with eating just about anything, and Nagito had offered to get them both a small meal. And so, the rest of his bandmates had left to satisfy their hunger, leaving Hajime alone.

Which gave him the perfect opportunity to return to the song he was currently trying (and failing) to write in his notebook.

He glared at the pages that mocked him.

Hajime had, in the time he hadn’t been driving, eating, sleeping, or goofing off with his companions, been working on a set of lyrics to accompany a song he had started working on weeks ago. While it was nothing overtly conspicuous, he knew for a fact that the others had seen him trying to write several times, which left him occasionally wanting to tear his hair out. Fortunately, none of them decided to question him about it, which allowed him to save some face.

_After all, how does one even go about writing a love song for their bandmate without looking like an idiot?_

It wasn’t the chords that Hajime was struggling with, but rather the lyrics- He didn’t consider himself to be a wordsmith, but usually he was able to put pencil to paper with the help of his friends and come up with some impressive verses. This time, however, he was on his own. He couldn’t let anyone else know about his work. Not only would it cast suspicion on him, but it’d also be less meaningful.

_But it’s not like Nagito would want to listen to something so poorly written. It’s not like I can find a way to tell him. It’s not like he’d ever return my feelings. It’s not like I’m good enough-_

With a loud swear, he picked up his notebook and scanned the pages, trying to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth as he looked through line after line after line of failed choruses. Words that didn’t have any place in a song, words that didn’t even come close to describing the depth of his feelings. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he was tired of looking at them.

In a fit of what could only be called despair, Hajime grabbed his notebook and moved to where he had been storing his bag of personal belongings. After rifling through the small bag for several seconds, he pulled out what he had been looking for: A pocket lighter.

He opened his notebook and proceeded to rip out the pages full of abandoned lyrics, one by one, and set outside, glad that the RV had been parked on pavement. With one last look at the scribbles that he’d slaved over, he held the small stack of paper together and set fire to it with a flick of the lighter, dropping it on the pavement as the pages burned and stomping out the remaining flames, leaving only smoke and ash-covered scraps in their wake.

When it was all over, Hajime looked at the ground for a long while, and tried to steady his breath. After god-knows-how-much-time had passed, he eventually heard a voice calling out to him.

“Hey, Hajime! Did you know the barbecue place sells… oh, what’s going on?”

Ibuki had returned with a plastic bag full of what Hajime assumed was food, and glanced down at the last vestiges of the burnt paper in confusion. She looked back up, frowning when she saw Hajime’s upset expression.

“Hajime…?”

Hajime looked at Ibuki, and took one last breath to calm himself.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just had to take care of something.”

“Something that involved fire?” Ibuki asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hajime tried his best to put on a smile, and lightly whacked Ibuki’s arm.

“Sorry, I should have known you’d want to burn something too.”

Ibuki gave Hajime a once-over, and eventually decided not to press Hajime any further.

“You should get some rest after you eat. I think Nagito’s going to be back with your food soon, and you look beat,” She said with a small smile.

“Thanks,” Hajime said in return, and felt some of the weight lifting off of his shoulders, grateful that Ibuki hadn’t mentioned the notebook and lighter that he was still holding.

They both went back inside the RV, and Hajime gingerly set his notebook back on the table, then put the lighter away.

True to Ibuki’s word, the others began to return- Nagito first, with two dishes of pasta, then Chiaki with fish tacos (and a glum expression at not being able to find sushi), and finally Kazuichi with a burger that probably had at least twice the amount of calories recommended for a human’s daily intake.

Ibuki didn’t mention the matter to anyone, though Hajime could tell by the concerned looks she kept giving him that she was practically dying to do so. Thankfully, the conversation as everyone ate was light, with the occasional chuckle whenever someone would tell a joke. As time passed, Hajime let himself unwind, and soon enough, he had managed to push the incident to the back of his mind. Mostly. Because every time he looked at Nagito, he felt a small flare of regret in his stomach.

_Yeah… I’m so fucked._

* * *

**A not-very-long while ago…**

 

“Hey, you guys. You might want to take a look at this.”

Chiaki motioned for the others to come near as she sat on the couch in Hajime’s living room, tapping away at the keys of her laptop. The barely-forming band’s members had been relaxing at Hajime’s apartment after a long day of work and a long night of practice; Kazuichi was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, Hajime was idly strumming his guitar, Nagito was reading, and Ibuki was looking at memes on her phone. At Chiaki’s words, everyone stood up and approached her, crowding over the back of the couch to peer at her laptop screen.

“Uh… what are we looking at?” Nagito asked, tilting his head.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember, but I recorded our practice session last week. After fixing up the video a bit, I put it online on a music video sharing site, and it's gotten a bit of a following.”

Hajime tried to get a closer look at the screen, and whistled when he saw the numbers.

“Two thousand and forty views already?” He said, astonished. “You only posted that two days ago, and we weren’t a blip on the radar. How long have you even had that account?”

“Two days,” Chiaki replied, not looking away from her screen. “I think the fact that we all look weird in the thumbnail helped attract viewers.”

“We don’t look weird,” Kazuichi huffed.

“Alright… we all look weird in the thumbnail, except for Hajime.”

Hajime smiled a bit, and glanced at the rest of his bandmates. Sure, they were an… eccentric-looking bunch, but the fact that they were starting to get a small amount of attention for what was essentially the beginning of a band was enough to make him feel sort of excited.

“You know what this means?” Ibuki piped up after a moment.

“What?” Nagito asked.

“We need to think of a cool band name!”

“A band name… that would probably get us more viewers, too,” Chiaki said thoughtfully, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“So, what should we call ourselves?” Kazuichi asked.

The room was silent.

“Well,” Kazuichi continued after a moment, “It’s gotta be something unique. Out there. Kitschy. Sorta like us, I guess.”

Ibuki raised her hand- “Oooh! What about ‘The rampaging monster that lives inside our brains’?”

“That… might be a little too out there,” Kazuichi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And too long,” Chiaki added. “It needs to be short and catchy.”

Hajime glanced around the room, and said, “What if we try looking for inspiration around here?”

“In your living room?” Nagito furrowed his brows. “What would we find in here?”

“I don’t know,” Hajime said sheepishly, “But it’s worth a shot.”

Everyone at that point glanced around the room. Nagito stood up and looked at the small bookshelf in the corner of the room, then opened up a book and started reading.

“Maybe we can find a good band name from a book quote?” He suggested.

“I could look up ideas online,” Chiaki suggested as well.

Hajime was about to voice his agreement, when his gaze traveled to a grocery bag on the counter, and immediately stopped.

“Rocketpunch.”

Kazuichi looked at him.

“...What?”

“Rocketpunch. As in Rocketpunch Market. That place a few streets away,” Hajime elaborated. “I mean, think about it. It’s weird, it’s short, it’s catchy.”

Kazuichi and Ibuki’s eyes practically lit up.

“Hajime with the great ideas once again!” Ibuki cheered.

“Hmm, but wouldn’t we get in legal trouble if we used that?” Nagito asked, still flipping through the pages of his book, and Chiaki stopped typing at her laptop.

“I think Rocketpunch Market is too localized for that. But it couldn’t hurt to add our own twist to it.”

“We should add another word or two. Something that starts with ‘R’, maybe? Just to make it flow better,” Kazuichi suggested, tapping his fingers against his side.

“Rabbit-Hole.” Nagito said suddenly.

At that point, everyone stopped to stare at him. Completely nonplussed, Nagito held up the book he was reading- a copy of Alice in Wonderland.

“That’s actually pretty good,” Hajime thought out loud. “Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but I guess it doesn’t need to.”

Ibuki nodded enthusiastically, and clasped her hands together in front of her.

“It’s catchy!”

Kazuichi shrugged- “I’m fine with calling ourselves that.”

“Then it’s settled,” Chiaki said, and resumed typing on her laptop. “We’ll call ourselves Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole.”

Ibuki lifted her hand for a high five, which Kazuichi, Hajime, and (with some reluctance) Nagito returned happily. And as Hajime watched his friends return to what they were doing before, he could feel the energy levels in the room rise. _This could really be the start of something._

* * *

**4 days until the performance**

 

Hajime sighed contentedly as he laid back on his small bunk bed and scrolled through various websites on his phone. He’d been checking out the latest announcements for the music festival, and seeing the name of his band advertised on the website was something immensely satisfying. There were even several posts on the event’s official forum that mentioned how excited some of their fans were to see what they were like in person. It was flattering (and just a bit pressuring) to know that some were spending an almost exorbitant amount of money to stay at the festival and watch them live. Thank god for cult followings, he supposed.

It was still surreal to think that they were only four days away from performing for thousands of attendees at their first big gig, but it was exciting, too. It was a great opportunity for their music to skyrocket into the eye of the mass media, and while Hajime didn’t think he’d ever want to be so famous that he’d attract paparazzi or anything of the sort, he’d love to see his and his friends’ music reaching more ears and sending out more messages. For someone like Hajime, it really was a dream come true.

He was so caught up in his giddy mood that he hardly noticed Nagito approaching him, wearing his same unreadable smiling expression. When he did notice, however, he did a double-take.

“Hey, Hajime, do you mind if we talk for a bit?”

Hajime blinked, and nodded.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Nagito motioned for Hajime to follow him outside. In the cramped space of the room, he could see Chiaki eyeing them suspiciously. She tilted her head at Hajime in silent question, but Hajime just shrugged in response. It was Nagito, after all, and no matter how much Hajime had gotten to know him over the years, he still tended to be an enigma. _Just one of the things I like about him I guess,_ Hajime thought to himself in exasperation. Once the two were outside and out of hearing range from the opened window of the RV, Hajime put his hands in his pockets and took a quick glance around before settling his gaze back on Nagito, who was currently fishing around in one of his jacket’s ridiculously large pockets. He opened his mouth to say something, but immediately snapped it shut when Nagito pulled out his lyric notebook.

Oh. He had almost managed to forget about that.

“Hajime, I know I’m not exactly a trustworthy person, but you can at least believe me when I say I want to be able to help you.”

“With what?” Hajime asked nervously.

Nagito bit his lower lip, before answering carefully.

“With writing a love song, of course.”

Hajime froze.

“What- how did you-”

“I saw it lying on the table yesterday, and I was wondering if you had written anything new in it or if you needed help…” Nagito started, looking away almost guiltily, as if expecting to be scolded by Hajime. When nothing came, he continued, “I know you tore some of the pages out, and I don’t know what you did with them… But I guess you forgot about one, heheh.”

Hajime quickly snatched the notebook out of Nagito’s hands, and scanned through the pages, anxious to know what he could have possibly missed. There, in the middle of the ripped edges of the other pages, was an almost-torn-out scrap of paper containing some of the chords he’d been putting together for the song… and some incredibly damning evidence of his intentions.

Among the notes and scribbles were several crossed out words, rejected titles and lyrics.

 

_~~Song for a bandmate~~ _

_~~When I look into your eyes, I see stars~~ _

_~~Something I’ve been meaning to tell you~~ _

_~~We’ve known each other~~ _

_~~Music for~~ _

_~~To soothe your soul~~ _

_~~GODDAMMIT~~ _

 

Hajime stared at the page, mortified. At the very least, the words written on the page were vague enough that they could have been about anyone ( _or rather,_ his traitorous mind reminded him, _anyone within the band- and it’s obviously Nagito_ ) but that was nothing compared to the horrible implications that had been laid forth.

“So. What does it matter? I wasn’t planning on doing anything about it.” Hajime asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“You weren’t planning on telling her?” Nagito said, genuine confusion in his voice. That made Hajime pause.

“Her…?”

Nagito shuffled awkwardly, still wearing that mysterious smile.

“You were writing the song for Chiaki, weren’t you?”

If thoughts could be heard, Hajime’s would have sounded like an old computer struggling to boot up.

“What? No, not- jeez, no.” He said, earning a raised eyebrow from Nagito.

_Smooth one, Hajime._

“I was… I wasn’t intending for it to be for anyone specifically. That title was for a different song I was planning on writing,” Hajime lied through his teeth.

Nagito looked at him flatly.

“Uh-huh. So… do you want my assistance?”

“Assistance with what?” Hajime asked, even more nervous with where the conversation was headed than he was before.

“Do you want my assistance writing the lyrics? I looked at the melody- or what I could see of it, anyway- and it’s really sound. I think, even if you weren’t intending it to be for someone in particular, you could make a really beautiful song.” He paused, and glanced away. “Your songs are always beautiful, though.”

Hajime flustered, grateful that Nagito was avoiding eye contact so he didn’t have to do it himself. He still couldn’t believe that Nagito thought he had written the song for Chiaki (and in all likelihood, he probably still thought Hajime did) and yet he was willing to help anyway. Hajime knew Nagito was self-sacrificing, but to such an extreme extent? It was almost scary. Hajime wished that he could have confessed in that moment. He wished that he could have grown a pair and told Nagito what was on his mind. He wished that he could have been honest.

Instead, what he did was frown, and say, “Sure. That’d be nice.”

Nagito looked up, then, and wore another smile. Hajime could swear it looked strained.

“That’s great! I’m glad I get the honor of helping you with such a sensitive topic, even though I’m no good with that sort of thing.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Hajime said, and tried not to cringe at how worn out he sounded. “Seriously. I’m glad you’re helping me. Plus, you read a lot, right? You’ll probably be better at forming words than I will.”

“No, that’s wrong… but since you sincerely seem to want my help,” Nagito said, turning back to the RV, “Just tell me when you’re ready to start writing. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

And with that, Nagito went back inside, leaving Hajime to watch as he shut the door behind him.

(Later that day, Kazuichi found him banging his head against the side of the RV, muttering _“Stupid, stupid, stupid…”_ )

* * *

**A not-very-long while ago…**

 

Hajime frowned as he lifted his hand to knock on the front door of Nagito’s house, somewhat unsure of himself. Kazuichi was out of town for that day and the three following, Chiaki was spending time with her parents, and Ibuki had a root canal appointment of all things, leaving only Hajime and Nagito to practice that day. Nagito had offered to let Hajime practice at his totally-not-a-mansion house, with the depressing reassurance that nobody would be around to bother them if they got too loud. Hajime had awkwardly agreed, and Nagito had texted him to come over whenever he was ready. So there he was, looming in front of the entryway, his guitar case and lyric notebook alongside him, looking like a chump with an expression on his face that would probably startle whatever stuffy neighbors had to have been nearby.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly checked it.

_The door is open! You shouldn’t stand outside forever, it looks like it could rain soon. -N_

Hajime grimaced, and wondered how long Nagito knew he had been floundering at the door.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been inside Nagito’s house- that was about a year ago, and he’d almost let his jaw hit the ground when he saw the interior- but it was his first time practicing there, and certainly his first time without the others around. If he was being honest with himself, he felt nervous; Over the past few weeks, he’d been having stray thoughts about Nagito, and none of them were particularly comfortable. Brief, intrusive little thoughts, like _“What if I ran my fingers through his hair?”_ or _“His eyes are really green today”_ or even _“I wonder what kind of body wash he uses, since he always smells so good.”_ Of course, Hajime and Nagito were friends and bandmates, so Hajime had expected that despite Nagito’s many… “quirks”, he would get to know Nagito better the more they hung out. But those thoughts were veering into dangerous territory, territory that would have put Hajime in a box labeled “creep” in big block letters if they were directed at anyone less self-deprecating than Nagito.

After stepping inside, his ears were greeted with the low strumming of a bass. _I guess he couldn’t wait,_ Hajime thought, and made his way to the living room where Nagito was seated. When Nagito looked away from where his fingers were idly toying with the strings and saw Hajime, he perked up.

“It’s good to see you.”

Hajime nodded, and set down his guitar case and notebook on one of the couches.

“What were you playing just now?” Hajime asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard that bassline before.”

“Oh, just a little song I’ve been working on. Nothing worth performing, really,” Nagito said, and laughed quietly.

Hajime squashed down the urge to ask Nagito to play it again.

“What song do you want to work on first? I’m close to finishing the lyrics for ‘Monochrome Bear’, but it’d probably be better if we kept working on ‘The Project’ since it’s actually complete.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Nagito agreed, and moved to the couch where Hajime would be sitting.

Hajime joined him seconds later, and took his guitar out of the case, gingerly holding it in his hands. After making sure his guitar was tuned, Hajime began the beginning riff, accompanied by Nagito shortly afterward.

“It’s like I’ve got a second personality,

Hiding in the darkest parts inside of me…”

As Hajime began to sing, he let his mind sink into music mode. The song had been mostly written years ago, when he had felt like an emotionless robot, quietly dying under the pressure of the expectations placed upon him. He had begun to use music as an outlet, and eventually he managed to escape the trap of his own mind, and found closure with the completion of the song.

There was something odd about the experience, though. Usually, with Ibuki on her electric guitar, the song was more intense, lighting up nerves and bringing an energy to the chords. But with just Hajime on his acoustic and the undertones of Nagito’s bass, the song sounded even more somber. Hajime filed that thought distantly in his mind, and continued to pour his heart out into every word and every movement of his fingers.

When the last few notes rang through the otherwise soundless room, Hajime sighed and leaned back against the couch. Playing that particular song always seemed to wear him out. He glanced to the side, about to compliment Nagito on his help (though he’d surely brush it off anyway) and immediately froze.

Nagito looked like he was trying to blink away tears.

“That bad, huh?” Hajime tried to joke, just to lighten the mood, but it only partially worked as Nagito let out a light chuckle.

“Hah… how shameful,” Nagito said.

“Uh,” Hajime started dumbly, “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Nagito said, putting a smile on his face, and Hajime was surprised to see how sincere it looked. “It’s just…Whenever I watch you sing, it…”

He trailed off, and Hajime attempted to finish the thought; “...gives you hope, right?” He tried.

“Something like that, yeah,” Nagito admitted, and Hajime couldn’t help but wonder what that was supposed to tell him.

_But then again, Nagito’s always been confusing._

Hajime stared at Nagito for several more seconds, and cleared his throat, trying to ease the strange and heavy tension in the room. Nagito took that as his cue to stand up.

“How about I fix some tea? It’ll help keep your voice from getting hoarse.”

Hajime silently nodded, and as Nagito walked away and into the kitchen, Hajime steepled his hands and took the opportunity to gather his thoughts together.

_I shouldn’t be so pent up. It’s just Nagito, after all._

Nagito, who played the bass because he thought it was an “important yet graciously unacknowledged instrument”.

Nagito, who was always so quick to scoff at his own talent, and practically glorified others.

Nagito, who had more issues than a long-running magazine.

Nagito, who Hajime was slowly realizing that he was falling for, whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

**3 days until the performance**

 

The floor beneath Hajime rumbled slightly as he sat at the table with Nagito. Ibuki was driving the RV that afternoon, with Kazuichi in the passenger side, and Chiaki was napping, meaning that Hajime and Nagito had the perfect opportunity to write without prying ears.

Hajime had hesitated the rest of the day after Nagito had offered his assistance, trying to psyche himself up for a confession… though of what, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t scared (or at least, not that much) but it wasn’t like he could just say _“Hey, Nagito, that song was supposed to be for you, but I felt like I wouldn’t be good enough when I wrote it so I burned most of the paper, wanna kiss?”_ Nagito would probably think he was crazy for saying so.

Or worse, he’d think Hajime was joking.

The problem wasn’t that Hajime thought Nagito would reject him (though, actually, he probably would, if he thought it was for Hajime’s own safety. Or maybe because he’d refuse to let himself believe that Hajime liked him. Or even just because he didn’t like Hajime in the same way.) The problem was that his own feelings of inadequacy and his knowledge that Nagito would be sorely disappointed in him if he couldn’t have confidence would be his downfall. How was one supposed to deal with that sort of situation, anyway?

Finally, after some thought, he decided that he might as well play along with the idea that his love song wasn’t for Nagito, until he could gather the courage to tell him personally.

Which was how he found himself with a fresh notebook (one of a few that he carried with him) sitting side by side with Nagito.

“I think in this case,” Nagito said as he looked at the notebook intently, “It would be good if we just started writing the lyrics and gave them thought afterward. It doesn’t have to be great, as long as we get the gist of what you’re trying to say.”

Hajime looked at Nagito for a few seconds, watching his thoughtful expression, before turning to the notebook as well.

“So, I’ve never really written a love song before, aside from when I was like, fourteen, and that was more of just a really shitty and awkward poem. I have no idea where to start,” Hajime admitted.

Nagito hummed, and said, “Well, there are plenty of things to consider. What the recipient of your affection looks like, what they do well, how they make you feel…”

Hajime watched as Nagito quickly jotted down a few words on the paper.

“ _With hair the color of the sky before it turns to night…_ But what if the song’s recipient doesn’t have dark hair?” Hajime said, confused.

“I wasn’t thinking dark hair, more of a sunset color.” Nagito leveled Hajime with a pointed stare, and added, “Perhaps violet or periwinkle?”

Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I said it wasn’t for Chiaki. It’s just… a song for anyone. It’s meant to be an emotional song, not specifically aimed at someone.”

A rather large lie, but it wasn’t like Nagito needed to know that at the moment.

Nagito laughed lightly. “Ahaha, of course it isn’t. But if you want to be vague, like you said, then maybe this is the best option. Now, how does this hypothetical person make you hypothetically feel?”

Hajime scratched the back of his neck, and said, “Well… hypothetically, I’d feel sort of calm around them, but also excited? Nervous? Does that make sense?”

Nagito smiled warmly.

“Of course it does. If it’s someone you like, you’ll always feel a cocktail of emotions. But let’s stick with the positive feelings for right now.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow as Nagito wrote more words. It was sort of silly, in a cosmic way, how Nagito was doing most of the writing for a love song that was initially supposed to be about himself.

_“I see the smile upon your face, and everything’s alright._

_Cause girls like you, they don’t exist, you’re just one of a kind...”_

Hajime frowned.

“Nagito…”

Nagito merely shrugged, and said, “Love songs are generally written from men to women, right?”

“I… guess you have a point.”

“And you want the listener to feel special, right? Like nobody can replace them? Like you’re lucky to have met them?” Nagito said, smiling wider and wider, gripping the table. It was almost scary.

“Well…” Hajime began, not finishing the thought.

After a moment, Nagito seemed to calm down from his fanaticism, and leaned close like nothing had even happened. Hajime wasn’t sure if he should savor the physical proximity.

“So how about you try to expand on that idea?” Nagito asked.

“What words even rhyme with kind?” Hajime questioned out loud. For some reason, his brain was drawing a blank.

“Find, mind, shined, unwind, resigned,” Nagito suggested, “Though you might not want to use that last one.”

“Let me think for a moment,” Hajime said, searching for the right words to put onto the paper.

_“And when I’m with you I feel like the planets have aligned,”_ Nagito read out loud, and grinned. “See? You’re doing great! You hardly need me at all.”

Hajime grimaced. “Hey, don’t say- I mean, you’re being really helpful. I don’t think I could do it without you.”

“You’ve written plenty of songs before, though. I think you can handle a love song just fine without me,” Nagito said, frowning a bit. “It was probably out of place for me to suggest that I could help you in the beginning.”

Hajime pursed his lips, somewhat annoyed.

“Look, I value your opinion alright? Is it really that hard for you to understand that?” He asked, already knowing that the answer would be-

“You really are too kind, Hajime.”

As he tried to decide whether or not it was worth it to be argumentative, Hajime let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Don’t you think you’re underestimating my perception of you? A perception that I’ve had years to form?” He muttered just loud enough for Nagito to hear. “One of these days you’re going to realize that people actually care about you and value you, you know.”

Nagito was silent for several moments, and Hajime could swear he heard the gears in Nagito’s brain turning, struggling to process Hajime’s honesty. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but a dark laugh certainly wasn’t it.

“You’re deluding yourself, Hajime. I may have musical talent and money, but who would want to care about anyone with a personality as rotten as mine?”

Before Nagito had the chance to get up and leave, Hajime’s hand shot out, without him even thinking about it, and gripped Nagito’s arm.

“I would.”

Nagito stared at Hajime, something incomprehensible in his eyes. Hajime desperately wanted to know what it was.

“I think…” Nagito carefully started, “Perhaps we should stop writing for now.”

It was an avoidance tactic, and Hajime knew it.

“Nagito, I…” He started, and stopped to swallow thickly when Nagito looked at him with attentive eyes. _Just spit it out, quit keeping up this dumb charade, tell him you like him already-_

“I hope that… one day you’ll see yourself the way I see you.”

Nagito offered Hajime a short smile and a noncommittal hum, and Hajime supposed that would be the best he’d get for the time being. He let go of Nagito’s arm.

“I can help you write more later, if you’re still having trouble,” Nagito said, and moved away. “I’d like to take a nap now, though. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Yeah,” Hajime said, looking down at the notebook. “Okay.”

* * *

**A not-very-long while ago…**

 

“Let’s not go overboard,” Chiaki said, and was promptly ignored by the others as Ibuki cracked open the first drink of the night.

“I’m sure we’ll all be responsible adults, just ones that are a bit tipsy,” Kazuichi said, and then with sparkles in his eyes, “ _Our first real show_ isn’t until the evening, anyway.”

“And I’ll be keeping an eye on everyone,” Nagito added, holding up a juice box.

Earlier that afternoon, Kazuichi had called for an “urgent meeting”. When the rest of the band had arrived at his garage, Kazuichi had giddily shown them all an email he’d received on his phone- as it turned out, Kazuichi had seen a flyer asking for local musicians to perform for the downtown area’s annual “summer culture selection”, and sent in an email with a link to their uploads on Chiaki’s music sharing account.

“The event director said he loved our style and that we’d be a great act! And we’ll be getting paid for it too! We actually have a shot at performing for real live people!” He had cheered.

“As opposed to real dead people?” Hajime had quipped with a grin, earning an ear-tug from Chiaki.

One email to the event director later, and Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole was officially on the roster to play one of their demos. Naturally, the only way to celebrate such a momentous occasion was to drink.

After everyone had moved to his backyard, and Kazuichi found enough alcohol to kill a man, Nagito and Chiaki had agreed to be the designated drivers for the night (though really, Nagito was there to supervise more than anything; “If I drove, we’d probably get into a crash and die!” He had said, and earned himself several put-off stares in response.) Really, that only left Hajime, Ibuki, and Kazuichi to start drinking, but it didn’t matter. As Hajime watched Ibuki chug a can and then smash it against her forehead (a feat which was both worrying and impressive) he couldn’t help but feel as giddy as the others.

_This is actually happening,_ He thought, and though the prospect of performing in front of actual people was nerve-wracking, he had a feeling everything would be okay.

Probably.

“Shouldn’t we have made business cards or something?” Hajime asked as he opened up a bottle of questionably-smelling booze and took a swig- and nearly spat it out. “This is awful!”

Kazuichi let out a small laugh, and said, “You’re supposed to mix that stuff with Dr. Hopper. It tastes like crap on its own.”

So Hajime did. Which, as it turned out later, would be a poor decision, as it was hard to tell after a while just how much he had drunk. While he wasn’t a lightweight, after two hours of drinking and laughing and talking and general excitement, he was starting to feel a bit wobbly.

And somehow, in the span of those two hours, he had shuffled closer and closer to Nagito as they sat on the grass, until eventually he was hugging him and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“You know…” Hajime mumbled into Nagito’s shoulder, then paused thoughtfully, “You’ve got really pretty features in the low light.”

Ibuki let out a low “oooooh” in intrigue, and Kazuichi nearly spat out his drink. Chiaki looked at Hajime as if something had clicked into place in her mind.

And Nagito was wearing the most attractive blush Hajime had ever seen on a man.

“You really must have bad taste if you think that,” Nagito chastised.

“I’m serious,” Hajime said firmly. “You look mysterious. It’s good.”

“Maybe we should get you home,” Nagito kindly suggested, trying to rearrange himself so that Hajime wasn’t clinging to him like a sloth.

“Don’t wanna. You’re comfy, even though you’re also skinny,” He muttered.

And proceeded to press a kiss on Nagito’s lips.

Well, it was less like a kiss and more like a blown raspberry, causing Nagito to make an embarrassing squeal. Kazuichi gaped at him with a quiet “oh my god”, and Hajime justified his actions by following it up with a very eloquent “Nagito’s teasing me, you guys.”

Chiaki saved Hajime from further embarrassment by walking over to Hajime and gently lifting him to his feet.

“Alright, I think we’d better get you home. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, and you want to have fun, right? Even if it’s not very late right now, you’ll need to save up energy.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Hajijme responded with a smile.

“Then let’s go,” Chiaki said with a small yawn, and helped guide Hajime to the front yard where her car was parked.

“Try not to fall asleep at the wheel!” Kazuichi called out.

Hajime glanced at Chiaki as she motioned for him to get into the passenger’s seat, and pursed his lips. Once they were both inside and buckled up, Chiaki briefly looked at him with concern, and started the car.

“So. You and Nagito,” She prompted.

“What about us?” Hajime asked.

“You wouldn’t happen to have feelings for him, would you?” Chiaki continued, her voice even more neutral than usual.

Hajime found it hard to respond, but eventually, he nodded.

“Yeah. I think. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“Weird how?”

Hajime looked at her, not saying anything until they halted at a stoplight and he saw her concerned yet fond expression.

“He’s like… he’s got that weird thing about hope, and he always puts himself down like he actually enjoys it, and I know it’s because he has some stupid complex about bad luck-”

“It’s not a stupid complex, Hajime,” Chiaki scolded him. “He has reason to believe in it.”

“Okay, he has some _not-stupid_ complex about bad luck, and he’s just… it’s difficult to talk to him sometimes, right?” Hajime began to ramble, “But there’s a part of me that wants to know what goes on in his head, and that wants to show him that life can be good instead of sucky, because I know what it was like to feel like the world was crashing down around you and I was powerless to stop it and-”

“Hajime,” Chiaki interrupted him sternly, making Hajime silent for several long moments.

“And I mean, he’s cute too, so there’s that,” Hajime finished lamely.

Chiaki’s expression slowly melted into a caring one, and she smiled slightly.

“You care about him a lot. It’s almost funny, I think… just because you two are so similar and yet so different.”

“Hmm,” Hajime hummed, slowly letting tiredness creep in.

Most of what happened after that was a blur; Hajime remembered being walked to the front door of his apartment and being instructed to brush his teeth, drink some water, and go to bed, but he hardly remembered actually doing the actions. At the very least, when he woke up the next day, he wasn’t super hungover like he thought he should have been, and his breath didn’t smell too bad.

And when, after everyone was gathered at the venue and getting ready to set up their instruments, Nagito brushed it off as drunken antics, Hajime couldn’t help but be somewhat grateful.

* * *

**2 days until the performance**

 

“Uuuuuuuugh- hurk!”

Hajime tried not to gag as he heard the sounds of Ibuki spitting up bile into a paper bag.

“You should have known not to trust that sketchy-looking egg salad,” He said, glancing between where Ibuki was currently releasing the few contents of her stomach, where Kazuichi was laying with his hands clutched around his abdomen, and finally to where Nagito was sweating up a storm as he slept on the bunk bed.

Thankfully, Chiaki and Hajime had abstained from the offending food, as they had both stocked up on snacks beforehand and weren’t hungry when the others wanted to stop for something to eat.

“It’s not our fault,” Kazuichi said, wincing in pain, “The sell-by label wasn’t due for another week.”

“Well, now our trip is going to be delayed for the rest of the day,” Chiaki said with some dismay, “Since any sudden movement on the road could cause problems.”

“We can’t wait!” Ibuki suddenly exclaimed, looking even more pale than usual, “We might be late to the show!”

“I don’t think we will be… we’ve made enough progress on the trip that a single afternoon without travel ought to be fine. We’re only a few hours away now and our show isn’t until the day after tomorrow,” Chiaki told her reassuringly, only grimacing when Ibuki foamed at the mouth (or at least, Hajime hoped it was foam.)

Despite his attempts to look strong for the everyone else, Hajime was internally screaming. He did truly care about his bandmates, and seeing everyone so sick was close to frightening. Especially in Nagito’s case, considering he was the frailest of the bunch.

Hajime looked at where Nagito was currently resting, his breaths looking shaky. Chiaki had taken his temperature earlier with the thermometer from their first aid kit, and it wasn’t as dangerous as his appearance made him seem, but it was concerning nonetheless. He wasn’t sure how long he had been watching, but he startled when Chiaki placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s going to be okay. I’m sure he’s dealt with worse.”

“That’s not really reassuring,” Hajime said.

As he looked at Nagito, he felt something stir uncomfortably inside him. He’d known Nagito had had _certain health issues_ in the past, but seeing him so out of sorts was jarring. Hajime moved away from Chiaki and kneeled down to get a better look at Nagito’s face as he slept, gingerly brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. If it was any other circumstance, Hajime was sure he’d look gross doing so. Nagito shivered, but didn’t wake up.

“He’s going to be okay,” Chiaki repeated, softer.

“Yeah…” Hajime stood up, and stretched his limbs for a bit before looking around carefully.

“Hey, Chiaki…” He carefully spoke, “Do you… do you think you can help me with something?”

Chiaki tilted her head, but said “sure,” and Hajime motioned for her to get out of the RV. He almost followed behind her, but wavered as he spotted the corner of the newly-marked notebook sticking out from his travel bag. He bit his lower lip, and plucked it out of the bag before heading outside as well. The sky was overcast, and he briefly hoped that it didn’t rain while they were out there; This was a conversation he didn’t want to risk Nagito hearing if he woke up.

Chiaki was quick to notice his notebook.

“I’ve been…”

Hajime braced himself.

“I’ve been trying to write a song for Nagito. And he thinks it’s for you. And I haven’t had the guts to tell him that it’s not, because I don’t think he’ll listen to me and I’m too much of a… of a chicken to try and approach him about it. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

He handed the notebook to Chiaki, and stared at his feet as he opened the book and scanned through the pages, pretending not to hear her quiet gasp of surprise.

“You two have been dancing around each other for too long,” She said suddenly, determination clear in her voice. “You can’t keep putting off a confession forever.”

Hajime gulped. The rest of the sentence didn’t need to be said.

“But… He already thinks I’m interested in you. How do I even go about trying to convince him that I like him? He barely likes himself!” Hajime said, frustrated.

Chiaki tapped her finger to her chin, and glanced down at the notebook.

“I have an idea that could work… I think. But we’ll have to play our cards very carefully.”

Hajime lifted his head, a hopeful expression on his face.

“We may need the Kazuichi and Ibuki’s help for it too,” Chiaki clarified, and Hajime slumped slightly.

“They’re both sick, though,” He said, and blinked when a drop of moisture hit him squarely in the nose.

Chiaki handed him his notebook, and opened the door to the RV. Good timing, as the sky was beginning to release the first few drops of rain of the afternoon.

“Don’t worry about it. If Nagito’s still asleep, we can have a quick group meeting. They won’t even have to stand up,” Chiaki said.

Hajime watched as Chiaki entered the vehicle, and scrambled after her.

“Wait- what are we doing?”

Chiaki smiled.

“You’re going to finish that love song, and we’re going to help you get to perform it.”

* * *

**A not-very-long while ago…**

 

“Wow,” Kazuichi whistled as he stepped into the small studio, “The only time I’ve ever seen recording equipment this fancy was when I’d try repairing ‘em.”

“Isn’t it great that you all have a friend like Ibuki?” Ibuki said, and grinned at her friend’s excitement.

“I’m amazed at how quickly you got permission to let us use this studio today,” Hajime said, looking awestruck as well. “You must have pulled a lot of strings for this.”

“It helps when you’ve been in the industry as long as I have!” Ibuki exclaimed. “I’ve been playing guitar since I was a baby, you know.”

Hajime let out a quiet laugh that only got louder when he saw Ibuki pout.

“All of this stuff… the microphones, the soundboard… everything looks really high-tech. Professional grade, even,” Chiaki said.

“Let’s hope we don’t break anything, then,” Nagito added, practically goose-stepping as he maneuvered through the room.

On one side of the studio was a desk topped with a small collection of monitors hooked up to a computer, and a soundboard with all sorts of buttons and dials that Hajime couldn’t even begin to decipher. There were also some microphones and a small speaker, making the desk look crowded. On the other side of the studio was the recording booth, which was small in comparison to what a major studio’s would look like, but still large enough to hold a variety of instruments.

“Looks like we’ll be going one at a time,” Kazuichi said, and turned to Hajime. “We’re playing ‘Murder Island Madness’ for this, right?”

“Yeah, since this is the only day we’ll be able to record.”

Ibuki pouted again, and said, “I wish I could have gotten more time for us to do more songs…”

“At least we’ll have one pro recording done,” Nagito tried to cheer her up, and it worked until he added, “Though it’ll make the rest of ours sound awful by comparison.”

“Maybe we could try making a real music video for it,” Chiaki added positively, “Like one you’d see on TV, not just a recording of us playing.”

“That’d be kickass!” Kazuichi smiled widely, leaning against the desk… and almost knocking back one of the monitors. Thankfully, he scrambled just in time to put it back upright, saving it from falling and possibly breaking. Nagito let out a semi-nervous laugh.

“Hey, it’s all fine,” Kazuichi said, putting his hands up innocently. “Nothing happened, we’re all good.”

“You’re all good for what?” came a voice, seemingly from nowhere.

Everyone turned around to face the entryway to the studio, startled to see a rather hefty-looking man with glasses in a white suit.

“Track Producer!” Ibuki said, giving the man a tight hug (which wasn’t reciprocated, though she didn’t seem to mind.)

“This is the guy who’s gonna be doing the session today?” Kazuichi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that a problem?” The as-of-yet unnamed man asked, to which Kazuichi responded by shaking his head.

“Not at all!”

“Good,” The other man said, and entered the room. “We’re running on a tight schedule today, so there’s no time for standing around idly.” He then pointed to Kazuichi, and added, “We’re going to start with you, since you’re the drummer and will be the deciding factor in the tempo.”

Kazuichi pumped his fist in the air with an enthusiastic “Yes!”

And so began Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole’s first true recording session.

Hajime couldn’t help but feel his blood start pumping as he watched his bandmates enter the recording booth one by one, each one playing their instrument with a passion even brighter than usual. There was the occasional hiccup, since nobody was really used to being recorded in a professional manner, though for the most part everything was fine. The track producer (and Hajime still had no idea what his name was, but he also wasn’t sure how to ask) would occasionally make a stern comment on how to improve the performance, and then they’d start all over again, but it was actually fun. For a moment Hajime briefly wondered if this was the “hope” Nagito so persistently talked about.

(After all was said and done, and the track producer told Ibuki that he’d send her an email with the completed and edited recording, they left the studio with joy in their hearts.)

* * *

**Day before the performance**

 

The RV slowed to a halt at the reserved parking site just as the clock struck eleven in the morning.

The driver’s side door opened, and Ibuki stepped out, feeling reinvigorated after recovering from the previous day’s illness. Shortly after, Nagito, Kazuichi, Hajime, and Chiaki followed.

“Wow,” Ibuki cooed excitedly, “I can’t believe we’re actually here! Everything looks so cool!”

“We’re just in the parking site,” Nagito said, though Hajime noted that even he looked more lively than usual.

The event’s main stage was about a twelve-minute walk away from the parking area, and most of the housing areas for the guests and attendees were a bit further than that, but the sprawling almost campground-esque area was crowded with both people and decorations alike. Balloons, banners, even pop-up merchandise stalls and game booths were set up closely together, all already filled with patrons. As Hajime idly glanced around the area, he was surprised to see a few familiar names on the shirts of some who had passed by, no doubt also recruited from the same music sharing site that Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole had posted on. He briefly wondered if there were any official stalls selling shirts for the event, and if it would be weird for him to buy one just because his band’s name was on it.

“Hey, Hajime,” Kazuichi called out to him suddenly, “Did you see? Sonia and the Neverminds are gonna be here! This could be my chance to finally talk to-”

“Isn’t the lead singer Sonia actually dating someone?” Hajime smirked.

“I heard she’s dating the lead singer of Dark Devas… I think,” Chiaki said.

Kazuichi looked somewhat annoyed at that, but it didn’t last long in the face of his joy.

“So, according to the organizer, we’re supposed to be looking for some guy named… Makoto?” Hajime said, using his hand to keep the sun out of his eyes. “How are we supposed to figure out who that is?”

As if on cue, seconds later a slightly younger-looking man with wild brown hair and an olive-colored shirt with the words _J.I.M.F Staff_ printed on it rushed up to them, clutching a cell phone in one hand and a clipboard with a small stack of papers in the other. Hajime tried not to feel somewhat awkward as the guy stopped to gasp for breath- _How long was he running?!_ \- and looked up to smile at them.

“Hah… It’s good to see you guys made it!” The man said, still somewhat winded but standing up straight. “Sorry for taking so long to get here, I’ve been trying to keep track of everything and a fight broke out at one of the stalls and security had to be called so I was-”

“Are you Makoto?” Nagito asked before Hajime had the chance to.

“Yeah, that’s me! Welcome to the festival. You guys are Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole, right?” Makoto asked, and after everyone nodded, continued, “Great! Thanks for being able to make it here. Sorry that we weren’t able to provide transportation for you too, it must have been kinda stuffy in that thing.”

Ibuki nodded as Makoto gestured towards their vehicle, and said, “After yesterday, it’s good to be out of there!”

“What happened yesterday?” Makoto asked with mild concern in his voice.

“Anyway!” Hajime suddenly said in an attempt to change the subject (because really, did anyone need to know about their sudden sickness when they were less than a day and a half away from playing at a large concert venue?) “We’re really psyched to be here. Do you mind showing us around a little? And uh, can you tell us where we need to set up our equipment for the show tomorrow?”

Makoto nodded, and said, “Of course. Just give me a second to call some of the event staff to help you move stuff around.”

The group of five stood quietly as they watched Makoto make a quick phone call, and soon enough, after a crew of workers in the same olive-green shirts were instructed to retrieve the instruments and set them in the room reserved for the band, Makoto motioned for them to follow him.

“So we’re still working on setting up everything for the opening ceremony, and then the performances start tomorrow,” Makoto said, expertly maneuvering the group and himself through the densely-packed area (and trying to placate the occasional fan who would approach them.) “If you think it’s crazy now, wait until you see what it’s like when the other bands start playing.”

“That reminds me, do you know if anyone received our email request about the sets?” Chiaki asked Makoto.

“Oh, yeah,” Makoto nodded. “Togami, our performance coordinator, told us all about that. He really wasn’t happy about it, but he did manage to fix around the schedules to make time for your extra song.” 

Hajime stiffened slightly in response- which didn’t go unnoticed by Nagito.

“Extra song?” Nagito asked neutrally.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hajime said, internally cringing. Now he’s just going to worry even more. “I’m just going to be playing an acoustic song for variety. You won’t have to be on stage for it.”

It wasn’t a lie- just not the whole truth, either.

Nagito looked at him intently, but Hajime only stared back, trying to keep his expression straight. Eventually, Nagito backed off, apparently accepting Hajime’s excuse as Makoto gestured around them, saying something-or-other about the festival and scenery. Hajime tried not to feel too bad about his misdirection. After all, Nagito would be finding out the truth the next day.

And Hajime was going to confess it to thousands of people, live.

* * *

**A not-very-long while ago…**

 

“Someone pinch me. I’ve got to be dreaming,” Hajime said in disbelief, staring at his phone as though it held the secrets to the universe.

He nearly dropped it when Nagito pinched his arm sharply.

“I didn’t mean literally,” Hajime said, and started to his arm where there were freshly-made nail indents.

“I can guarantee that this is real,” Chiaki said as she stared at her laptop with the same intensity that Hajime had before he was pinched, “We’re actually invited.”

At that moment in the evening, gathered in Hajime’s apartment after another “urgent meeting” (this time instigated by Hajime himself) the five musicians of Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole were all staring at whatever internet-accessing device they had on them. Each screen was lit up with the same image- an email with a large emblem on the header that read _Jabberwock Indie Music Festival_ in bold letters.

“To the members of Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole…” Kazuichi read out loud, “We cordially invite you to expose your musical talent to the world as guests at our yearly five-day festival.”

“We celebrate the unknown variables in the world,” Nagito continued reading where Kazuichi left off, “And we have always aimed to inspire hope in the lives of music fans across the nation.” A pause, and then, “How admirable!”

“After extensively reviewing the discography that you’ve uploaded onto your social media pages, the event committee has determined that your works show sufficient skill and innovation within the music field. We would be honored if you chose to attend as performing guests,” Chiaki added, a smile gracing her face.

“Living arrangements for the festival will be paid for, and each member of the band will receive a substantial sum for participation. The location for this year is in…” Hajime trailed off, and gaped at his phone screen. “H-hey, wouldn’t it take like, four days by car to get here?”

“We could always fly there?” Nagito suggested.

“Yeah, but we’d also need to bring our equipment, and who wants to pay to have all that hauled along with us? We’re not made of money, you know!” Ibuki said sadly, then lamely included, “Well… most of us aren’t.”

“Actually, I might have an idea,” Kazuichi spoke up, not giving Nagito time to make a rebuttal. “I know a guy who refurbishes these huge travel vehicles. He has a few that he’s fixed up as a hobby, too. I could try calling in a favor and see if I can get him to let us use on to get there.”

“We should probably read the rest of the information before we start planning,” Hajime said, though the excitement shining through his protests made him sound unconvincing.

Even as the members of the band continued reading and researching, the cogs were turning in everyone’s minds, working together to form a plan. What was originally intended to be a short gathering to discuss the legitimacy of an email had extended into the hours of the night, and after the initial impact of being invited to such a hugely famous event started to wear down, Hajime found himself beginning to yawn. He checked the clock, only somewhat surprised to see that it was nearing midnight.

“Damn, it’s that late already?” Kazuichi frowned as he followed Hajime’s line of sight.

“You guys can crash here if you want,” Hajime offered, “Since you’re all probably too exhausted to get home without risk. Then we can reply to the emails together tomorrow.”

Ibuki gave Hajime a thumbs-up, and immediately wandered towards the couch, where she flopped onto it and almost immediately began to snore. Chiaki, for her part, had already rested her head on the table in Hajime’s kitchen (which would probably give her a crick in her neck, but Hajime knew that when she fell asleep, there was no use in trying to wake her; She slept like the dead.) Kazuichi stood up and stretched his limbs, then moved to one of the chairs opposite the couch that Ibuki was snoozing on, leaving only Hajime and Nagito.

“Do you want to take the bed?” Hajime asked after a short pause, “I don’t know how much room is on it, but the only other place is the floor so-” He immediately cut himself off, almost certain that Nagito would offer to take the floor instead, which was really not something Hajime was comfortable with seeing.

Surprisingly, Nagito didn’t answer. When Hajime glanced at him, he only saw determination in his expression.

“Hajime, you’ve really done a lot for this band of ours, haven’t you?”

Hajime blinked. “I… guess so? Probably not more than anyone else, though.”

“You’re wrong,” Nagito said firmly. “You were the one who brought this band together, you’re the one who encouraged all of us to keep at it, you’re the one who helped forge the bonds of friendship…”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” Hajime said, unsure of where Nagito was going with this conversation.

“I’m not. You’ve always been our foundation, Hajime. You’ve given us a chance at something great, something that could really put our names out there. We all owe a lot to you…” And then, quieter, “I owe a lot to you.”

Hajime stared at Nagito, heat creeping into his cheeks. Even though he had gotten used to Nagito’s somewhat blunt and unfiltered way of speaking, there was something about the situation that was completely different to Hajime. Something warmer, something softer.

“You know,” Nagito continued after a short pause, “We’d had our differences when we first met, and the fact that you manage to put up with a cesspool of toxicity like myself is-”

“I don’t _just put up with you,_ Nagito-”

“-Is something that I still can’t believe to this day. You have… so much life within you, and I can’t help but want to get closer to it, like a moth to a flame,” Nagito said, and clenched his fists. “Is that wrong of me? To want to stay so close to something that gives me light, even knowing I could so easily get burned?”

If Hajime looked close enough in the low light, he could see how Nagito was biting his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut as he blushed red all the way down to his neck.

“Nagito…” Hajime murmured, heartfelt in a way he hadn’t prepared himself to be.

_I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this intense. I don’t think I’ve ever felt my heart beat this fast. Nagito, what are you doing to me?_

“Hajime,” Nagito started, and looked Hajime in the eye, “I think I really-”

And that was all Nagito had the chance to say before they were interrupted by a shrill beeping sound and the smell of smoke.

“What the hell!” Hajime exclaimed, nearly jumping back as he felt something singe him.

As it turned out, a sudden spark from an electrical outlet near the apartment window had started to singe the curtains, leading to a full-blown freak accident flame that nobody had noticed until it was too late. Whatever mood had been created not even a minute before was suddenly decimated in an attempt to put out the fire (and to keep Hajime from getting burned again), and when Ibuki, Chiaki, and Kazuichi rushed in to help, Hajime had to push the event out of his mind by force.

Thankfully, the fire department didn’t need to be called, as the whole situation was resolved in under three minutes, but the end result was still that Hajime had a scorched carpet, no curtains, a mild burn near his right wrist, and a group of distraught bandmates fretting over him. He frowned as Ibuki finished applying a layer of antibiotic cream to the skin and began to loosely wrap it with gauze.

“I’ve had like, a million accidental burns after messing with pyrotechnics for my band’s shows in high school,” Ibuki said with what Hajime assumed was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “So I know this should heal up just fine!”

“That’s still some real shitty luck to have, and after we just got the festival announcement too…” Kazuichi said morosely.

“It could have been worse,” Hajime argued, taking a quick glance at Nagito.

Nagito’s expression was alarming. He was frowning, concern evident on his face, but he also looked guarded. Like there was some emotion he was pushing down. Nothing like how open and almost vulnerable he’d looked when he had been talking to Hajime minutes before.

Hajime wanted to ask what he was about to say, but thought better of it.

It wasn’t the right time.

(And, as the excitement died down once again, and everyone returned to sleep, Hajime discovered that there might never be a right time; If Nagito had been ready to tell Hajime the words he’d been hoping to hear, it was undeniable that fate would have screwed them both over. Or maybe he was wrong for even hoping Nagito would say it.)

* * *

**Day of the performance**

 

As Hajime stepped up the stairs leading to the main stage, he felt a surge of energy flow through him.

_This is it._

He didn’t feel too nervous about being in front of the audience, or at least, not at that point. Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole had played at plenty of venues before, albeit much smaller (and closer) ones, so they weren’t total strangers to performance. Hajime could practically sense everyone’s anticipation as the five geared up- everyone within the band, and everyone watching, as well.

It was exhilarating to be there.

From Hajime/s vantage point at the microphone stand, he could see a few members of the audience wearing bright pink shirts featuring their band’s logo and name on it.

“Hello, everyone out there. Thanks for sticking around to watch our performance,” He said with a grin as he gripped the mic, earning a scattered but loud series of cheers.

“We are Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole, and we’re going to play four songs for you today. The first three songs are available on our EP, and if you look to the right of the stage, you’ll see we’ve got some cheap CDs available with all of them and some more. The fourth is something new.”

Hajime watched Nagito, who was testing out his bass, out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully, no reaction other than his usual composed cheerfulness.

The crowd gave out several whoops, and Hajime cleared his throat one last time.

“This first song is called Murder Island Madness.”

As the sound of drums hit the air, Hajime began to belt out the lyrics. It was a weird yet upbeat song that Ibuki had heavily influenced the writing of, with an almost sadistic set of lyrics to contrast the happy-sounding tune. Hajime briefly felt a swell of pride in-between the first chorus and the second verse when he heard part of the audience start clapping to the beat, and he didn’t even need to look behind him to know that Kazuichi was wearing that sharklike grin of his that meant he was amped up. The song continued, without a single one of the band members missing a beat, and when the last chord faded, the sound of raucous applause filled Hajime’s ears.

Following after Murder Island Madness was The Project. Hajime’s voice accompanied Chiaki’s melancholy keys, and all was silent as he sang out, agonizingly cold in tone. He had passed the point of crying when he sang that particular song, but a slow scan across the crowd revealed that some of the listeners were shedding tears, which was both flattering and a bit awkward.

The third song to be played was Monochrome Bear- a song that was as hastily paced as it was loud. Nagito’s bass reverberated from the speakers, followed quickly by lightning riff from Ibuki’s electric guitar. It was the most energetic song of the set, and Hajime almost felt lightheaded from constantly having to take in quick breaths just to keep up with the speed. It was worth it to hear the way that some had sung along.

And then, as the crowd cheered following the end of the song, Hajime felt himself break out into sweat.

“Once again, thank you for watching us today,” Hajime said, bravely keeping his voice from wavering as he watched Ibuki and Kazuichi tug Nagito off the stage, followed by Chiaki shortly after. Hajime sighed, and tried not to fiddle with the strings of his guitar as his nerves lit up.

“This last song, ah, is going to be performed by just me.”

Hajime glanced to the side, where Chiaki was whispering something into Nagito’s ears, and he nearly gulped when Chiaki gave him a thumbs up and a warm smile.

Somehow, seeing Nagito’s eyes on him from offstage was the most nerve-wracking thing he’d end up doing all day.

“I’m not gonna stall much longer, because this was kind of unplanned, and this song doesn’t really have a title either, but… I wrote this for someone very important to me, and… I hope that they’ll get what I’m trying to say with it.”

With one last deep breath to steady himself, he strummed the strings, and began to sing.

 

_“With hair the color of the clouds that float in morning light_

_I see the smile upon your face, and it shines just as bright_

_Cause you’re the only one I see and I hope that you find_

_I want to understand you and what goes on in your mind_

_No one knows me quite like you do_

_One day I hope I’ll know you too_

_And I don’t give a fuck_

_About your rotten luck_

_But damn if I won’t take it all for you_

_Hold me like we’re drunk at twenty-three_

_Kiss me and you’ll set my trapped heart free_

_If you don’t remember that’s okay_

_I’ll wait for you anyway.”_

 

Hajime resisted the urge to look away as he prepared the lead to the second verse. Here he was, pouring his heart and soul out to an audience who may or may not realize how _gay he was for his bandmate,_ and he couldn’t even gather the strength to look at the recipient of his affection.

 

_“When you say only tragedy will follow if I stay_

_I want to hold your hand and say I’ll be here every day_

_And maybe you’re not perfect, then again neither am I_

_But you’ve got something special and it’s worth it just to try_

_No one has my heart like you do_

_One day I hope I’ll have yours too_

_And I don’t give a shit_

_That you think you don’t deserve it_

_And damn if I won’t give it all for you_

_Hold me like we’re drunk at twenty-three_

_Kiss me and you’ll set my trapped heart free_

_If you don’t remember that’s okay_

_I’ll wait for you anyway.”_

 

The crowd was silent as Hajime moved to the bridge of the song. He felt like his heart was ready to beat out of his chest as his fingers pressed down on the strings without thought, his mind only occupied by a silent scream of _look at him you idiot, you have to make it clear that you’re not thinking about anyone else, you have to let him know it’s about him, for god’s sake!_ He swallowed down his nerves, and carefully, he glanced to the side, no longer than two or three seconds. The sight of Nagito looking back at him, misty-eyed and trembling, was almost too much to handle. So he settled his gaze back on the crowd.

 

_“I can’t say it’ll be_

_Completely trouble-free_

_But damn if I don’t need you here with me_

_Hold me like we’re drunk at twenty-three_

_Kiss me and you’ll set my trapped heart free_

_If you don’t remember that’s okay_

_I’ll wait for you anyway…_

_I’ll wait for you anyway.”_

 

Hajime bit his lower lip as he let his hands fall from their position at the guitar strings, and for a painful stretch of about four seconds, there was nothing but a deafening silence.

And then, an explosion of sound.

Cheers, whistles, applause, all from a far greater amount of the crowd than he could have even imagined. The rush of relief that flooded his head at the ending of the song was enough to make him dizzy, and he let out a shaking breath as he gripped the microphone for the last time.

“Thank you. Hope you enjoyed the show.”

When he turned to the side, not even bothering to watch as one of the staff members announced the break before the next performance, he let himself walk to the stairs with a spring in his step and a lightness in his heart.

“Hajime, what the hell! I knew you were writing sappy shit for Nagito, but I didn’t think it’d be that good!” Kazuichi said, swatting him on the back so strongly that it actually stung.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hajime said dryly, and stopped.

Nagito… wasn’t there anymore.

“Where did he go?” Hajime asked, feeling dread creep into his stomach.

“He ran off,” Ibuki said, and pointed towards one of the nearby housing buildings. “That way, I think.”

“He looked really overwhelmed,” Chiaki added, pouting somewhat. But when she looked back at Hajime, she smiled, wider than Hajime had seen in a long while. “I think he got your message, though. You should go get him.”

Hajime quickly slid his guitar strap off his shoulders and handed the instrument to Kazuichi, with a hurried “Holdthisformethanksgottagonow.”

He ran through the packed area, pushing past small groups of people and muttering “sorry”s and “excuse me”s until he finally reached the building, and swung open the door. As he stepped into the lobby of the building, he realized that he had no idea where Nagito could have been. But considering it wasn’t the building that Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole had been staying in and therefore Nagito also had no idea where he was supposed to be going, Hajime assumed he couldn’t be too far away.

_If I was Nagito, where would I hide?_

“You lookin’ for the weepy guy?”

Hajime furrowed his brows, and glanced to where a (rather short) blonde male in a dark suit was standing in front of the men’s room, almost as if he was guarding it. Hajime could have sworn he’d seen him in a music video before.

“Hey, you’re the lead singer of Damn Right, aren’t you?” Hajime asked.

“Yeah. And you two are from Rocketpunch Rabbit-Hole or whatever, right?” The singer replied, “Your bandmate’s in here. He asked me to cover in case anyone came looking for him, but I’ve got to perform my set soon, and I don’t wanna be involved with whatever happens between you two.” He smirked then, and placed his hands on his hips. “It’s just the men’s room, so it’s not really a classy place for that sort of thing, you know?”

Hajime flushed red, and tried to say, “I’m not going to do anything weird!” though it sounded more embarrassing than he had intended.

“Sure you aren’t. Good luck with that.”

With that, the other left, and Hajime stood staring at the door dumbly.

_Well, I guess I might as well go in now._

Hajime hesitated, then pushed open the door.

Nagito was standing in front of one of the sinks, gripping the edge tightly, and glaring at himself in the mirror. It would have looked somewhat intimidating, if he wasn’t completely red in the face.

“Nagito…?” Hajime addressed tentatively.

Nagito looked up at him, eyes widening, and quickly turned his head away.

“I must look awful right now, right?”

“Hey,” Hajime said, stepping forward carefully, “You don’t have to… you don’t have to hide, you know.”

Nagito laughed, short and shaky. “I told you, didn’t I? You didn’t need my help writing a love song after all.”

“Nagito…”

“You’re too good at what you do,” Nagito continued, “After all, making me believe that I was worthy of your affection, even for a few minutes… It’s not fair.”

“Nagito, I meant every word of what I sang back there,” Hajime said firmly, closing the distance between them further and lightly gripping his shoulder and turning Nagito to look at him. “Every single one. And I wrote them for you. I hoped you would understand.”

Nagito chewed on his lower lip, and slowly exhaled. After what seemed like ages of silence, he met Hajime’s eyes.

“Is this really okay?”

Hajime blinked, and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean? As in… Us?”

“The last time I tried to… to tell you that I… the last time, your curtains caught fire and you got burned.” Another slow breath out. “I guess I was wrong, when we had that conversation. It’s the other way around. You’re the moth, I’m the flame. I’m only going to set you on fire if you get too close.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Hajime pressed. “Because it doesn’t. _I don’t give a fuck about your rotten luck,_ remember? Have a little faith in my ability to hold on, will you?” And then, in a much softer tone, he added, “There’s nothing that could threaten us right here, right now. No rain clouds in the sky, no sudden earthquakes, no cloth near the outlet that could suddenly catch fire, nothing… This day can still have a good ending.”

Nagito looked at Hajime, pensive, but said nothing. Hajime sighed.

“A good ending that I was hoping I could share with you, maybe?” He tried again.

“Good endings are foolish to want with someone like me,” Nagito said, and in a voice so quiet that Hajime nearly missed it, added, “And yet… you make me want one too.”

Hajime’s expression warmed, and he smiled at Nagito.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He asked after a pause, and when Nagito nodded in response, he did exactly that.

It was short and chaste, but it seemed to knock the breath out of both of them. Nagito’s shoulders shook slightly when Hajime pulled away, and for a moment, Hajime was worried that Nagito might actually start crying, so he pulled him close, using one hand to bring him close and the other to gently card his fingers through his hair. It was hard to tell how much time had passed as they stood like that, only interrupted when the door to the men’s room opened and an incredibly startled-looking attendee spotted them and cleared his throat.

They left after that, both feeling embarrassed but happy.

Later, when they caught up to the others at the venue’s restaurant, Ibuki immediately wolf-whistled, Kazuichi offered his hand for a high-five (which Hajime and Nagito were hesitant to return), and Chiaki simply said, “It’s about time.”

“Well,” Hajime said, intertwining Nagito’s fingers with his own as they shared a booth, “We’ve still got three days left in the festival. Do you think we’ll get any good business?”

“We sold a lot of CDs after your _heartfelt performance,_ and I’m pretty sure a ton of people were posting about it on social media, so if nothing else, we’ll get tons of exposure,” Kazuichi said, sipping from a glass of water.

“There’s always hope,” Hajime shrugged, “And either way, This trip is something you only get to experience once in a lifetime, and we should enjoy it as much as we can.”

And so they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @doomtemp !


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